Walk Without Rhythm
by Violetlight
Summary: Danger lurks on the desert world of Zz'gash. Can Deekah and the Protoss save the Dune Runners from it, or will these ancestors of the Zerglings fall?
1. Part 1: The Arrival

**Walk Without Rhythm**

A Starcraft: Elizabeth Story

By Violetlight

Disclaimer: Starcraft belongs to Blizzard Games, not me. But the characters Deekah, Dark Templar Drixis and others are mine, so don't use them without my permission. Special thanks to Dune by Frank Herbert for inspiring this fic and to "Weapon of Choice", a song by Fat Boy Slim for reminding me of Dune, which then inspired this fic!

This story takes place at the beginning of StarCraft: Broodwars, sometime before Protoss mission #2.

Author's Note: In the hopes of attracting more readership, (and I had to reformat anyway, stupid I'm reposting this story in four parts, instead of one big lump. Anyway, I hope you'll still enjoy it.

* * *

Part 1: Arrival

"Protoss Science Ship _Aiur's Intuition _reporting. This is Dark Templar Drixis, Praetor of this mission. We are now entering orbit around the desert world of Zz'gash, the homeworld of the Zz'gashi Dune Runners, a Probe-sized insectoid species believed to be the base species for the Zerg Zerglings. We have completed initial lifescans of the planet and were surprised to find Dune Runner lifesigns. It appears that the Zerg did not infest all of the creatures after all. We are proceeding to the surface to study the Dune Runners, and I'm certain that our…unique warrior will be an asset in our observations…"

"Gee, I'm so glad you think so."

"By studying the Dune Runners," Drixis continued, "we hope to achieve a better understanding of their behaviour, and through them, learn more about the Zerglings. This knowledge may save many Protoss lives in battle, ensuring that our warriors live for another day to bring glory to our race! Drixis out." Drixis turns off his comm station, and then turns towards me, his "unique warrior". "You like to make a habit of interrupting me, don't you?" he asks sarcastically.

"But of course! I have to make your pitiful life a little less boring, don't I?"

Drixis chuckles. I think. It's hard to tell with Protoss, whether they're laughing or not since they don't have mouths. You really have to look into their eyes to figure out what they're feeling, and even then it can be tricky, but I think I'm getting the hang of it. I should be, after all this time.

"Deekah, with you around, how can anything be boring?"

Hey, he's right about that! Who but a Zergling could lighten up this bunch of stiffs?

Sorry, am I confusing you? "What is a Zergling doing with a bunch of 'Toss?" you're wondering? Well, I could go into all the boring details about how I'm from a brood of self-thinking renegade Zerg led by our "Queen", an infested Terran named Elizabeth, how we were allied with a group of renegade Terrans (us rebels gotta stick together! That, and Liz and the Terran commander Drais were bumpin' each other like rabbits…what are rabbits anyway?) And I could tell you why I had to run from my brood for the stupidest of reasons (that Medic was asking for it), but then we'd be here all day, and we Zerglings aren't known for our sense of patience. Neither are you Terrans or 'Toss, well, maybe the Protoss, how else could they sit through those over-elaborate speeches they like to make…?

I'm getting off topic, aren't I?

Anyway, after running away, and dining on the oh-so elegant cuisine of Fillet de Rhynadon for a few weeks (Yuck! And you know it must be bad if a Zergling says "yuck"), the 'Toss picked me up, brought me to Shakuras, the Dark Templar's dark, twilighty world, and once I managed to convince their Council that no, I wasn't going to bring hordes of bloodthirsty Zerg to their poor little planet to chew off their arrogant faces, they said I could work for them. Well, it wasn't quite that easy, but you get the idea. Anyway, that's why I, a three-year old, female, Devouring One-class Zergling, am now working for the Protoss. That's what you need to know about it for this story, so be happy!

Drixis leaves me to go talk to some of the Scientists we're escorting to Zz'gash, so I take a look from my corner around the main bay of the Science Ship. It basically looks like a big Shuttle, only with a pilot (I think), room for a lot more than four Protoss at a time, and lots of cool-looking equipment scattered all over the place. One Scientist comes out of the rear room and starts to fiddle with the same comm. station Drixis was just using. He must be checking on the Observer robots following us, since they'll be doing most of the actual observing once we reach Zz'gash. The Scientists will probably just sit on their butts in the Observatory and watch whatever their little cloaked cameras in the sky happen to see. That's why it's so important that the Observers remain intact; Swarm forbid the Scientists would actually have to go outside and do their own observing! The Scientist finishes his work, and finally notices me. His eyes flash an alarmed yellow colour and I swear that his Shelak white scales have turned pinkish. He hurries back to the room where the other Scientists are hiding. It's always the same with Protoss Scientists; they're either terrified of me, or are so fascinated that they won't leave me alone!

I guess I am something of a terror to…what are they called again? The Protoss who don't fight…? Oh yeah! Civilians. After all, my species _did_ turn the Protoss' homeworld, Aiur, into burning wasteland of death and destruction, but hey, I wasn't there, and I'm on their side! There's no reason for them to be scared of me. Anyway, I've heard some Terrans describe me as a "giant cockroach". I'm assuming that a cockroach is a Terran animal of great beauty, if it looks even remotely like a Zergling. I wonder if they too have beautiful, shiny, bright green carapaces like me, a long and elegant spiky tail, or two strong, back legs with wide, clawed feet, two slender, middle legs with three-fingered, clawed hands, or two front legs with long, killer scythe-like claws? Do they have a mouthful of fangs, or a fine-looking head shield extending over their necks to help them communicate with other cockroaches? I wonder…if I ever see any friendly Terrans again, I'll have to ask.

The Zealots sitting in the main bay with me smile to themselves, with that weird way Protoss have of smiling just with their eyes, at the Scientist's rather abrupt departure. I've been with these guys ever since I joined the Protoss forces, and they're used to me now, so seeing other Protoss' startled reactions at me is a joke to them. I get up, stretch, scratch, (my carapace gets itchy when I'm in space too long) and walk over to one of the Zealots, who is looking out the window.

"I cannot believe that we were sent to this dump," he complains. "We should be preparing ourselves for battle, not watching wildlife."

"I'm actually looking forward to our mission." I inform him. He grunts in annoyance. I try to ignore him. Zealots are Templar-in-training and to "prove themselves" they never want to do anything but fight, but if there's one thing I've learned from my sentience, it's that youdon't experience new things, don't _learn_, then your life isn't worth living. As I look out the window at the caramel-coloured planet below us, I do want to go down there, right away. I want to see my ancestors, the Dune Runners; see how they live on this barren world. I want to learn more about them…and about myself.

* * *

"Zz'gashi field report. We have arrived safely on the planet and have set up our base camp. Observers have been deployed, but despite the orbital scans, so far there have been no sightings of the Dune Runners."

There goes Drixis again, blabbing into his comm. computer. I don't know how he can stand it, making all those damn records, putting in every little detail. He should add in _"oh, by the way, the sand is yellow and the sky's blue."_ Heh heh heh, that would get the Council's heads scratching.

We landed on Zz'gash with no problems, and have set up camp near a bunch of minerals and a Vespene gas geyser we found up on a rocky hill, which ends rather abruptly with some impressive cliffs. The view from the top is amazing, sand, sand and more sand. This place makes Korhal look like a Terran larva's toy sandbox! You wouldn't think when looking out over the endless seas of dunes that anything could live here, but life can exist in the strangest places. I've seen the one-eyed, reptilian Ragnasaurs crawl across the magma fields of Char, and small, furry animals living on the icy plains of Braxis. I, like other Zerg, can live just about anywhere, even on an asteroid or space platform, completely exposed to harsh radiation and other dangers of the Void. Even in the most unlikely places, Life will find a way.

As I look over this "barren" desert, gazing at the golden sand, the bright blue sky above, I feel like I've come home. This is the homeworld of the Dune Runners, my ancestors. They ran across this desert sea for aeons before the Overmind found this world and decided to incorporate them into the Swarm. I feel almost like I imagine I would feel if I could be with Phoenix Brood once more, back with my brother and sister Zerg, even back with our Terran allies…back with _him. _Deekah, stop thinking about that! You're not making it any easier…

Luckily, a group of idiot Zealots interrupted me before I could sink even further into my past. While looking out at the desert, I spotted them at the bottom of the cliffs, starting to walk out onto the sand. As I watched their wide, four-toed, bird-like feet carrying them effortlessly over the dunes, I could almost hear their footsteps echoing as they move through the sand, _shift shift, shift shift, _a grainy, but even beat. _Shift shift, shift shift, _it's like it's calling to me… _SHIFT SHIFT, SHIFT SHIFT, _NO! GET OFF THE SAND! GET OFF THE SAND NOW! I scramble down the rocky path to the bottom of the hill. I don't know why, but something just tells me the sand is dangerous! Don't walk on it with beating footsteps! _Walk without rhythm…_

"Get back here now! Your lives are in danger!" I call out to the Zealots. It's a good thing the translator built into my Protoss armour carries my voice such a way. They turn, and look at me, confused as to why I'm acting this way. They're not the only ones confused. I just don't know why I have this strong feeling to stay off the sand, all I know is that it's too strong to be ignored. I yell at them again to get back. They raise their brow ridges in confusion and go on; they must be too far away now; they can't hear me! Despite my instincts, I dash across the sand towards them, and grab the nearest Zealot's armoured forearm in my mouth, being careful not to bite him. "Come on, you've got to get out of here!" I mentally yell at him. I try to pull him back towards the rocks, but he shakes me loose.

"Zergling, why are you acting so strangely?" the Zealot questions me. "What is wrong?"

"I'm sorry to startle you, but you have to get off the sand now!"

"Why should we? We must explore this land to know our advantages should enemies arrive." The Zealot rebuts.

"Let the Observers do the exploring. I can't let you put your lives foolishly at risk. You want to die honourably in battle one day, not stupidly in an alien desert. Please listen to me!"

"Why are you walking like that?" another Zealot asks.

"Walking? What are you talking about? I'm walking normally."

"No, you are not. Your steps are very odd. Here, I will show you," the lead Zealot kneels down to me, lifts up the metal mask covering most of my face as part of my armour, and places his hand on my head, between my eyes. Protoss are very powerful telepaths and although this Zealot has nowhere near the power of a High or Dark Templar yet, he has enough to show me his thoughts. Suddenly, I'm seeing the world through the Zealot's eyes! My view from the tall Zealot is much higher than I'm used to, and I can see the other Zealots around him. He turns his head, and I see…myself, running across the desert towards them. I _am _running rather strangely. Instead of running evenly with my backlegs and forelegs, with my middle legs up in the air for balance like usual, my back feet and forefeet are hitting the ground unevenly, with random, unbalanced beats. Even my middle hands hit the ground at times, throwing off even this unusual beat of my footsteps.

The Zealot lets go of my head then, breaking the mental contact. "You're right," I tell him, "I was running strangely, and I didn't even know I was doing it."

"It must be a deeply embedded instinct for you to run that way on sand. Maybe you are right about the dangers of this world if this instinct of yours still exists, even after all the genetic changes the Zerg made to your race." the Zealot speculates. "This danger you sense must be a natural feature of Zz'gash; we cannot fight it. We will come with you back to the base."

"I think you're right about my instincts. Thank you for listening…um…"

"I am Nageer, a First Zealot of the Akilae tribe." he supplies.

"Well Nageer, just remember to walk without rhythm."

* * *

I start to lead the Zealots back towards the cliffs and I can't help but laugh to myself when I see the spectacle the Protoss are making of trying to walk unevenly on their long, bird-like legs. One throws himself off balance and falls, hitting the ground with a dull thud. A few others trip, but steady themselves in time. It must be very difficult to walk on two legs to begin with; to walk so oddly must be even more of a challenge. It's times like this that I'm so glad I have six legs.

Nageer seems to be having less trouble than the rest. After a few uneasy steps, he starts to get used to the offbeat and is soon striding confidently beside me. He looks at me with his glowing orange eyes for a minute, as if he wants to ask me something. He looks away when he notices me watching. "What is it?" I ask him.

"It is not important," Nageer replies stiffly. He turns away, appearing to be concentrating on his footsteps.

"Come on, it's no big deal. If you want to ask me something, go ahead."

"Zz'gash is the homeworld of your ancestors, the Dune Runners." Nageer states.

"Yeah. And?"

He sighs. "How does it feel to walk on your species' home planet once again?"

"Well…I don't know. It's kind of hard to explain," I begin. "I've never actually been to Zz'gash before; I don't think any Zergling has been here in centuries. But it feels…somehow familiar, but also very strange at the same time. It's like I belong here, but I don't; I have come home, but I haven't." Nageer is looking at his feet again. I suddenly realize why he's so upset. "You miss Aiur, don't you?" He says nothing. We continue in on in silence toward the cliffs.

* * *

"Guys, come on! Open up, I know you're in there!" This isn't fair! The Observers just collected the first pictures of Dune Runners, (as I overheard from Drixis in one of his many one-sided comm. reports) and the stupid Scientists aren't letting me see! I bang on the door to the Observatory with my big back feet. "Come oooonnnn! Let me in! I won't bite…much."

"Deekah! Are you tormenting the Scientists again?"

"Um…no, oh great and mighty Dark Templar, sir."

"How many times do I have to tell you to leave them alone?" Drixis sighs. "You know they…aren't used to you."

"Well they can get used to me! I wanna see the Dune Runners! They _are _my ancestors, after all." I argue. Drixis hates it when I argue with him, but I have just as much a right to see those vids as any other warrior here! "Drixis, tell them to let me in! I don't see what they're scared of; it's not like I'd rip off their limbs and eat their guts or something. I've never even eaten Protoss, and besides, I heard it's too sinewy, not worth picking out of the teeth."

"Do you have to be so graphic?"

"Well I haven't, and that's what I heard."

"I don't even want to know where from. Just leave them alone Deekah. That's an order."

"Yes, my Cere…" I begin, but Drixis smacks me on the snout. Hard. "I mean, sir. Yes sir." Drixis is a fair commander but he doesn't take any crap and sometimes, I admit, I can be a pain in the tail. I deserved it; comparing any Protoss to a Zerg Cerebrate is definitely pushing it.

As I rub my sore snout, one of the Zealots, a younger, less experienced one by the look of it, approaches Drixis. "Dark Templar?" he asks.

"Yes, Arvix?"

"A few of us were wondering if we could take the Shuttles and go exploring. The Scientists won't let us look at their findings, and we would like to see the Dune Runners for ourselves."

"That and you're getting bored of just sitting around the base, doing nothing." Drixis calmly remarks. I swear, if that Zealot had had a jaw, it would have dropped to the ground! "Don't look so surprised," Drixis smiles, seeing Arvix's shocked expression. "I too was a Zealot at one time, eager to prove myself; I understand perfectly how boring this mission must seem to some of you. You have my permission to take the Shuttles to explore, but do not set foot on the sand, understood?"

Arvix nods. "Yes sir. Thank you sir." He then turns to me. "Deekah, would you like to come with us?"

"I thought you'd never ask."


	2. Part 2: The Sighting

**Walk Without Rhythm**

A StarCraft: Elizabeth Story

By Violetlight

Disclaimer:StarCraft doesn't belong to me, as much as I wish it did. It belongs to Blizzard, but all the characters in this story are my creations, my property, so don't use them without my permission. Once again, I would like to thank Frank Herbert and Fat Boy Slim, and also you for reading this! Thanks!

* * *

Part 2: The Sighting 

So, here I am, sitting with two other Zealots and a High Templar, zooming over the desert in a Shuttle with a bad sense of humour (it hit me in the tail with the ramp when I was coming on). Yes, I know I'm not a Protoss, but since I basically fight the same way as a Zealot does, by slashing at my enemies with my claws, almost just like how they slash with their fancy Psi Blades, I'm technically considered a Zealot by the Council. I don't feel like being shoved into a cryo-chamber and blasted into space, so I'm not about to argue with them.

Arvix, the young Zealot who invited me along, is with me in this particular Shuttle. I recognize the two others here as well. The yellow-scaled, serious-looking High Templar is Atdaias, who is about a hundred years older than Arvix, and I don't want to know how much older he is than me. He's a veteran warrior, used to the action of battle, so I'm not surprised that he's as bored as the Zealots. That, and I have a feeling that Drixis asked him to come along with us, since bored Zealots (much like many bored Zerglings and Terran Marines I could mention) have been known to cause trouble. Wenessal, on the other claw, is a rookie. She just joined the Templar ranks a few months ago and is very excited about finally being allowed to do her part in the war. I heard that the Conclave, the group of idiots that used to run everything on Aiur, had forbidden female Protoss, even those of the Templar caste, to fight. How stupid! If you ask me, female Protoss are better at fighting than the males are in many cases. Why some male Protoss, and Terrans, for that matter, seem to like to think that the females of their species need protecting from every little thing is beyond me. That's just another of many reasons why I'm glad that I'm Zerg. We Zerg are more like the Dark Templar in that respect, everybody and anybody can fight.

Another similarity I have noticed between my race and the Protoss is that like the Zerg, the Protoss seem to be divided into different broods, or "tribes", as they call them, based on the colour of their scales. I think this was so that the Xel'Naga, the group of alien busybodies that created both of our races, could tell different Zerg and Protoss with different jobs apart or something, I don't know. Either way, the system has stuck. Different Zerg broods have different specialities, for example, Tiamut Brood, whose members have blood-red carapaces, was in charge of guarding the Overmind before it died. Fenris Brood's Cerebrate, Nargil, is biology genius, leading his green-carapaced brood in finding new life to assimilate into the Swarm and improving existing Zerg breeds. His Zerg were probably the ones here on Zz'gash thousands of years ago, searching for the Dune Runners much like we are now. Other broods had other functions; orange Garm (before the Dark Templar Zeratul made Cerebrate soufflé out of Zasz), brown Grendel, white Baelrog, and blue Surtur, among others, are warrior broods, and the space-black Zerg of Basilisk brood excel in espionage.

Protoss tribes were once organized in much the same way. On Aiur, the Tribes were arranged into three different castes – the Judicators, the Templar, and the Khalai – and different tribes in the castes specialized in different functions. Most of the Scientists working on this project, for example, have white scales, so they are from the Shelak Tribe. If I remember correctly from Drixis' "how-to-act-like-a-civilized-Protoss" lessons, (that he insisted I listen to, if I wanted to be under his command) Shelak, although being part of the Judicator caste, didn't usually boss other Protoss around, unlike most Judicators. Instead, they were scholars, historians, and scientists, obsessed with knowledge. However, they are sometimes unwilling to share their knowledge with others. That explains a few things.

Arvix, who is now fidgeting in his seat, has dark blue scales, so he's a member of Sargas Tribe. Although the Sargas tribe on Aiur was officially regarded as part of the Templar caste, it was infamous for its members almost constantly arguing with the ruling Judicators. The great Protoss hero Tassadar, who helped bring back together the Dark Templar with their Aiur brethren, (and also made his Carrier do a Scourge-dive into the Overmind, really screwing things up for the Zerg) was a member of this tribe. Drixis told me that more Dark Templar come from Sargas than any other tribe. Arvix, as I can tell by his severed nerve cords cut close to his head, the sign of the Dark Templar, is an example of that.

Wenessal, who is looking out the window, is orange, and so are most of the Scout Fighter pilots who, for a lack of anything better to do, are following us, so they are from Auriga Tribe. On Aiur, these Templar specialized in flying and space travel. Nageer, from green Akilae, is a representative of one of the strongest fighting tribes, and yellow Atdaias's tribe, Venatir, was almost as big a pain in the tail as Sargas was to the Judicators. Ara, with their red scales, made up the notorious Judicators themselves, hence why I haven't seen any Ara members around here. They don't usually get along very well with the Dark Templar. Drixis almost turns blue with anger if he so much as sees an Ara Protoss. Drixis, with his purple scales, is a member of Furinax Tribe. On Aiur, they were part of the Khalai caste, the workers and smiths of the Protoss - basically, if the robotic Probes weren't doing rock and gas line duty, they would be. Khalai who weren't happy with their jobs, especially if they wanted to be Templar, were branded as "heretics" on Aiur, which, I guess, would be the equivalent to a Zerg telling its Cerebrate to f off. They were severely punished, sometimes killed or even shot out into space to die, just for a little thing like wanting to fight. Rumour has it that this is what happened to Zeratul, the leader of the Dark Templar, and also a Furinax, like Drixis.

I once mentioned this similarity between the Protoss Tribes and the Zerg Broods to Drixis (I asked him who his Cerebrate was), and I got slapped for it, so I guess the Protoss don't like this resemblance to us. Although at times they can go on and on about how "great" the Xel'Naga were (I still think they just couldn't mind their own business), they don't like to be reminded that the Xel'Naga created us Zerg too. It's very confusing.

"Hey, Deekah." It looks like Arvix has got sick of fidgeting and wants to talk.

"Yeah?"

"What do you think the Dune Runners look like?"

"I don't know. The Scientists wouldn't let me look at the vids either."

"I know, but do you think they look much like Zerglings?" Arvix asks.

"Maybe. It's hard to tell. Some of us were changed more by the Overmind than other Zerg strains."

"Dune Runners probably do not have claws like yours." Wenessal comments.

"Probably no spikes on the tail either." Arvix adds.

"Why not? Zerg aren't the only things out there with claws."

"Your front claws were obviously made to be weapons. I doubt anything like that has evolved in Nature." Wenessal tries to explain.

"How do you know? Have you ever seen a Dune Runner?"

"Well…no…"

"Then you don't know, do you!"

"Deekah, look at it this way," Atdaias begins. "The only creatures, other than the Dune Runners, that we detected in the surface scans were small creatures, the same size as the Dune Runners or smaller. Zerglings have large claws so that they can attack things that are bigger than they are. Why would a Dune Runner need something like that?"

"They're not the only things out there." I reply.

"What, like your imaginary sand monsters?" Arvix laughs sarcastically.

"Shut up! There's something out there, I know it."

"Sure there is --"

"Are you calling me a lier?!" I snarl. I will not allow my honour to be insulted in such a way!

"Deekah, calm down." Atdaias tells me. "Arvix, you know the rules; if you want to challenge another warrior, do it the proper way."

"Alright, fine, _High Templar_ Atdaias. Deekah, I challenge you to a sparring match. Meet me in the Citadel of Adun when we get back."

"It would be my pleasure to pound your Protoss ass into the ground!"

"Deekah…" Atdaias warns.

"I mean, challenge accepted."

"Fine, Zerg." Arvix accepts. "And I'll tell you what. If there is something dangerous out there, and you're right, and…well…what do you want me to do for you if you're right?"

I recognise this behaviour, the Terrans call it "betting". Well, two can play at this game. "If I'm right, then you have to steal Drixis' comm. computer."

"What for?"

"Don't ask questions, just agree to do it!"

"Alright, alright. But if I win…you have to lick Drixis on the face, in front of everybody!"

"What?! Ewww! No! Believe me, inter-species…stuff like that, does not work!"

"How would you know?"

"None of your business!"

"Okay then, no comm. computer."

"Oh…okay, fine. But I know I'll win."

"Sure you will…Deekah and Drixis in the-"

"Shut up Arvix, I could hook _you_ up with a nice Defiler I know, if you like."

"What!? No way!" Arvix shouted, and I'm pretty sure I heard Wenessal chuckle to herself.

"Zealots…" Atdaias sighs exasperatedly.

"Scout One to Shuttle Five," the Shuttle's comm. system beeped before Arvix could say anything else.

"This is Shuttle Five." Atdaias rushes to the pilotless control panel of the robotic "box with wings" that we're flying in and answers the call.

"We're detecting a disturbance down in the sand about 2 klicks away. Should we investigate, High Templar?"

"Yes, but lead us to minimum sight range. We don't want to scare the Dune Runners away."

"Acknowledged."

Our Shuttle, as well as the six others in our little fleet, starts to automatically follow the four Scouts towards the "disturbance." This is it! I'm finally going to see the Dune Runners myself!

* * *

It doesn't take very long for the Shuttles to fly to the disturbance, even with their relatively slow flight time compared to the Scouts. As soon as we reach the coordinates, I can't help but rush to our Shuttle's window. Arvix and Wenessal are excited too, and stand quickly to take spots behind me, looking out at the desert over my head. Atdaias, a little less excitedly, takes his place.

The Dune Runners are a little hard to see at first, since their sandy golden carapaces blend in perfectly with the dunes, but I can soon make out the small pack. They _do_ look a lot like Zerglings, but there are some differences. Their middle legs are longer and more muscular; they actually serve more as legs than as arms like mine do, and their tails are longer and less spiky, although they have some spines along the back. They don't have a large head shield like I do, but their ears are more pronounced, and they do have a small frill at the back of their heads. They're just a bit smaller than a Zergling, but not by much. The most surprising thing, to my Protoss companions, is that they do possess the same, long, killer front claws as Zerglings do. I wonder…did the Zerg assimilate them because of those claws?

The Dune Runners are living up to their name, running across the sand as fast as a fully evolved Zergling. They're running almost the exact same way I was running earlier, with uneven footsteps, and I wish I could be down there with them, feeling the sand under my claws, the wind rush across my carapace; running with my ancestors, pure freedom! Suddenly, the ten Dune Runners making up this pack stop running and they gather together, standing in a circle. They then begin to do something amazing!

One Dune Runner raises its head, and cries out an eerie, high-pitched howl, an alien scream that echoes through the hull of the Shuttle, a sound that no Zergling I know of has ever made. "Computer, activate audio sensors." I whisper as the others in the pack howl in turn. The lead Dune Runner then stamps its left back foot on the ground, then the right quickly twice, then left, then right twice again. The others start to follow suit. The leader then adds its middle legs to the strange, drum-like beat, then its front legs, its large claws scraping rhythmically against the sand, shifting it evenly. The other nine Dune Runners join the pulsing dance in turn, perfectly matching the leader's beat. For these musicians, the their feet and claws are their instruments, the desert wasteland their audience. The mystical beat seems to reach up towards space, and down to the planet's core, all at once, and suddenly, I remember! The music reaches to somewhere far inside my mind, touches something hidden deep down in the recesses of my consciousness. Like with my instinctive knowledge of the desert, part of me remembers this song, every footstep, every long-forgotten beat. I remember different versions of the dance as well, used for different purposes. This is the Hunting Dance, I suddenly realise, the Dance of Life.

"Deekah," one of the Protoss whispers. I don't know which one. "What are they doing?"

"They are dancing." I answer, not really paying attention. The dance is what is important.

"But, you said we should not walk with even footsteps on the sand."

"They're not walking, they're dancing." I state dreamily.

"But for what?"

"They dance for their lives."

"Deekah, you are not making any sense."

"What about the danger in the sand?"

"There's no danger, and this proves it!"

"No, you are wrong Arvix, the danger is very real…and they are calling it!"

"What! What are you talking about, Deekah?" Atdaias asks, alarmed, as I slowly sink back to reality.

"High Templar!" one of the Scout pilots suddenly beeps over the comm. system. "We're detecting a disturbance in the sand, a big one, right below the Dune Runners!"

The Dune Runners suddenly and abruptly stop their dance, and scattered, running from their circle like waves from a thrown stone in water. A few seconds later, a…whirlpool…I don't know how else to describe it, appears where they were dancing, and with a deafening roar, something _huge _bursts from the desert!

"By Tassadar! What is that thing?!" a Scout pilot yells.

"It's as big as a Carrier!" another shouts.

I can only watch, stare, as the creature appears. It looks like an immense worm, with not two, but three gaping jaws (arranged, strangely, like the petals of a colossal flower) lined as far down as I can see with rows and rows of sharp, pointy teeth. It dives and breaches through the sand, like a massive fish through water, effortlessly. It's trying to catch the Dune Runners, the creatures that called it to the surface, but it, not they, is the one being hunted. The Dune Runners spin around and suddenly rush straight towards their immense prey, bounding across the sand, making huge leaps. The lead Dune Runner springs up, jumping onto the creature and rakes its claws down the body of the worm, slicing a huge strip of meat from its side. The other Dune Runners do the same, each taking a strip of worm flesh, causing ten large, vertical wounds, still barely cuts to this behemoth of the desert. Taking their prizes, the Dune Runners race off across the desert, leaving the worm, which then dives back into the abyss of the sandy sea. As suddenly as it began, the Hunt is finished.

The Protoss are silent, still trying to take what they have just seen. Atdaias finally speaks. "We…should return to base to report what we have just witnessed." The other Protoss silently agree, as our Scouts and Shuttles turn around and head back to base.

* * *

When we return, Drixis and a few of the Scientists are waiting for us. "What happened?" he asks.

"Dark Templar, we found the source of danger in the desert, and you won't believe what it is…" I hear Atdaias begin his report. I'll undoubtedly have my own reporting to do when he's finished, but for now, I have a challenge to meet.

As I walk towards the Citadel of Adun, a large, floating building where the Templar forces train for battle, I can't get the Hunt out of my mind; the speed of the Hunt, the excitement, and especially the Dance. I may have been in a Shuttle hundreds of feet in the air above the Hunt, but I felt like I was there. It was like I was running, leaping myself; like my own claws were tearing strips off of the Sandworm. I haven't felt so excited, so _alive_, since I can't remember when.

I walk up to the lift leading into the Citadel, and it carries me up inside, where I walk to the sparring room where Arvix said he would meet me. He isn't there yet. I saw him talking to Wenessal after we left the Shuttle, he must still be with her. No matter, I can wait.

I begin to think again of the Hunt, the Dance, and without knowing it, I find my feet taping in tune to the beat still echoing through my mind. I wonder…?

I take off the heavy Protoss battle armour that was made for me when I first joined the Templar. It's basically the same as a Zealot's power suit, but specially made to fit a Zergling, with golden-coloured metal covering my hind legs and front legs, but leaving my back feet, my front big claws, and my entire middle legs free. The metal is arranged in segmented plates over my back and down my tail, making me look a little like a miniature Reaver, a slow-moving beetle-like robot the Protoss use instead of tanks. The segmented plates cover my neck and chest, and two loops of metal making up the suit's shield generator extend over my back from my neck, attaching behind my front shoulders. Located in the chest of my suit is a small, blue, Khaydarin crystal, which provides power to my suit. The Protoss use these crystals to power just about everything, come to think of it. My audio translator, which translates my thoughts into an audio voice, standard equipment on all Zealot suits, is located in the collar. My metal mask completes the armour, which can all come off rather easily, thank the Swarm. I leave it lying in a pile in the corner of the sparring room. Now clothed only in my own natural Zerg carapace, I begin to dance.

It's awkward at first, trying to get my legs to work properly as I imitate the movements of the Dune Runners. My legs aren't even the same as theirs anymore, my middle legs especially, but I improvise. I lift my left back leg once, then my right back leg twice, left once, right twice, left, right right, left, right right, slowly adding beats, as my middle and forelegs join in, my claws clinking against the floor, adding a mysterious, bell-like sound to the Dance. I can't believe I'm doing it! I'm dancing the Dance of the Hunt! It's not exactly the same as the Dune Runner's dance, it has it's own, unique beat. I feel exhilarated! I dance and dance, faster with each step, the rhythm directing my movements. I even sing! My voice may be lower than a Dune Runner's, but the notes of the song come just as naturally as the movements of my dance, as I let the music guide me. I let the music take its course, letting it slow, not abruptly like the Dune Runner's dance - there are no Sandworms here - but softly, gently. I lower my head and close my eyes as my dance comes to a close, and for a few seconds, the room is completely silent. Then, I hear a new sound…applause? I turn around.

Arvix is standing at the front of the room. I didn't even notice him come in. Did he see the whole dance?

Arvix eye-smiles. "Deekah, that was wonderful!"


	3. Part 3: The Decision

**Walk Without Rhythm**

A StarCraft: Elizabeth Story

By Violetlight

Disclaimer:StarCraft belongs to Blizzard, blah blah blah. Thanks for reading this!

* * *

Part 3: Decisions

After the Scientists heard Atdaias' report on the Dune Runners and the Hunt, they finally agreed to let the rest of us see their research! It's about time! Early the next morning, the other Zealots and I are let into the Observatory for the first time since this mission began. The Scientists have collected a lot of data. Every viewscreen in here, except for the active four Observer trackers, shows different video footage of the Dune Runners. I walk up to one screen and take a look. It shows a cave in a cliff side, surrounded, strangely, by small clumps of minerals. This must be one of the places where Dune Runners live. Sure enough, a group of five Dune Runners emerge from the cave, a rather large female, a male who I assume is her mate, and, oh, by the Swarm, they have babies! They're not slug-like Zerg larvae, but actual baby Dune Runners, perfect little miniatures of their parents! I've never seen anything so…so cute, in all my life. I can hardly take my eyes off them. I can't help but wonder what it's like to have a real family like that; to have little ones of your own? It's something that Protoss and Terrans take for granted, but something that no Zerg, not even the larvae-producing TrueQueens, can ever experience. I feel angry at the Overmind. How dare he take that away from us! What gave him the right? At least I can take comfort in the fact that not all the Dune Runners were assimilated.

Another video shows a pair of Dune Runners in what looks like an oasis. I can see some small, but green bushes and cactus-like plants, and a very small spring in the background, water leaking out of a rock. The Dune Runners take no interest in the water. They appear to be chasing one of the small creatures Atdaias was telling me about. The third video also shows a pair of Dune Runners. They appear to be…

"Hey!" I yell at the nearest Scientist. "Why'd you have to film this? Couldn't you give them a little privacy?"

"Dune Runner mating rituals are an important part of our research," he tries to explain.

Excuses excuses. "Well, if you ask me, you're just being rude. How would you like it if someone watched you while you were getting laid?"

"Well…um…I…"

"See what I mean."

"Yes, um…I see your point."

"Dark Templar Drixis!" another Scientist yells from across the room. "You must see this!" Curious, I walk over to that Scientist's workstation.

"What is it?" Drixis asks.

"We're not the only ones on this planet, sir," the Scientist begins. He then notices me. "Should the Zergling be here?"

"Deekah may be useful in identifying these…visitors. What are they exactly? Not Zerg, I hope?"

"No, not the Zerg, thank Adun," the Scientist sighs, "Look." He turns on his viewscreen, one of the ones that were supposed to be tracking the Observers' movements. "I went to check on this one Observer when it made a startling discovery." He presses a few buttons, and a video starts running. It shows the Observer, flying over a featureless part of the desert. Suddenly, there's a flash of light, then the signal goes dead.

"Slow it down." Drixis commands. The Scientist slows the video to half speed, and Drixis and I can now see what destroyed the Observer, a Terran missile turret, with white paint, and some markings on it. "Deekah, do you recognize those markings?" Drixis asks me.

"Could you please zoom in on the markings more?" I ask the Scientist. During my time with Phoenix Brood and our Terran allies, I learned a how to read a little bit of the Terran language, and to recognize certain symbols. This missile turret however doesn't have the familiar arm-and-whip symbol of the Terrans we usually fought against, the Terran Dominion, or the bird-shaped symbol of the Dominion's elite troops, Alpha Squadron. Instead, I see a bunch of Terran words I can't really understand, and three big letters that stand out. "U…E…D…" I read.

"What does that mean?" Drixis asks.

"Those are the three big symbols. They are Terran letters that I recognize, but the other words are too complicated for me to read. I don't know what they mean, I've never seen Terrans with symbols like that before."

"At least they're using Terran technology that we're familiar with," Drixis muses. "Ready another Observer," he orders the Scientist. "I want to know just what these Terrans think they're doing here."

* * *

Drixis, Atdaias, and a few other high-ranking Templar watch the Observer they deployed on one of the Observatory's trackers. I guess that's a good thing about all of the Protoss' robots – although I still think they're annoying and more trouble than they're worth -- they can be sent on suicide missions like this, with no stupid loss of life. Drixis asked me to stay to help translate any Terran markings the little flying camera might see, although I don't think I'll be much help. I couldn't even translate anything more than "UED" on that missile turret, although I suppose having someone around who can somewhat read Terran is better than having no translator at all. At least the Observer has a spoken language translator built into it. Although Protoss can easily understand nearby Terrans by just reading their minds, no matter which one of the various Terran languages they might be speaking, and most have a good grasp of the main Terran language, English, (which, I heard, originated on the planet Englisha, located somewhere near the far-off Terran homeworld of Terra, or "Dirt", as some call it) having the translator is still a good idea. You never know when you'll run into a Terran speaking Japanish, or Russiaese, or something. Why do Terrans always have to complicate things? Why couldn't they just have one language like all the other civilized races in the galaxy?

We watch as the Observer approaches the Terran base, which is defended by a few scattered missile turrets and a bunch of bunkers, a few of which were foolishly built in the sand near the bottom of the hill where the Terrans built, and are now nothing but rubble. Despite the smashed bunkers, however, this is a full Terran base, with all of their buildings; the Command Centre, Barracks, a Factory, Starport, etc. One huge Terran Battlecrusier looms overhead, and we see Wraith fighters and Valkyrie frigates parked near the Starport, and Siege Tanks and Goliath mech walkers scattered throughout the base. They are much better equipped to fight than our little Science team is. The Observer quickly flies between two missile turrets, out of range of each of them. Its cloaking device prevents any Terrans on the ground from seeing or sensing it, so all we have to do now is look and listen.

Drixis directs the Observer over the Terrans' rock and gas lines, where many SCV's, Terrans in worker mech suits, are busy mining. Their mineral field is also bigger than ours, even though it looks like they have been mining much more than we have. "How will we defeat them if they prove to be hostile?" Drixis growls.

"All we have at our disposal are four Scouts, the six Shuttles, twenty Zealots and ourselves, five Dark Templar and two High Templar." One Dark Templar informs Drixis.

"And one Devouring One." I remind them. They ignore me.

"We would be fortunate to defeat one of their bunkers," the second High Templar sighs.

"Wait, we don't know that they're hostile yet. Maybe we can talk to them," Atdaias proposes.

"Let us learn more before we make a decision." Drixis resolves. The Templar turn their attention back to the Observer. It scoots around, past the Command Centre (which, fortunately, does not have a nuke silo attached to it), and then over past their Science Facility, when something catches my eye. "Drixis, could you focus the camera on that spot, right near the doors to the Science Facility?" I ask. "I think I saw something." Drixis moves the Observer towards the spot I was pointing at. When the camera comes into focus, I can't believe what I see...

There are at least twenty small, cramped metal cages stacked up against the wall of the Science Facility, and inside are Dune Runners, crammed sometimes two to a cage that hardly fits one. They look sick, and miserable! I can't allow this! I won't let them treat my ancestors this way! "This proves that they're hostile," I growl. The Protoss nod in agreement. Two of the vile UED Terrans then show up on the screen, one, a very ugly female in a white lab coat, is holding a small computer and appears to be typing something. The second, a male wearing a high-ranking officer's uniform, starts to speak to her. "Audio sensors on," Drixis directs the Observer.

"Is your research complete yet?" the male Terran sneers.

"No, not yet, Captain. We still haven't tested the drugs out on these specimens," the female replies.

"Well hurry up and do so. We have to know for sure that these drugs will work on the Zerg before we can use them in the field; Admiral DuGalle's orders."

"These creatures aren't Zerg. If you'd find me some real Zerg to test, I could work a lot faster."

"They're close enough. Besides, there aren't any Zerg in this area, and you should be damn grateful for that."

"I _am_ the fleet's leading xenobiologist, as you would like to forget, Captain. I don't need to be reminded of what the Zerg are capable of."

"Then do your job and develop your drug."

"That's what I'm trying to do!" the female sighed. "By the way, Captain, what should we do with these little bastards-- if any survive the testing, that is, -- when we're done with them?"

"Kill them, kill them all. They're too close to Zerglings to be allowed to live."

* * *

"Drixis, we can't let them do that!" I yell.

"Quiet, Deekah. We must hear what they have planned if we're to have any chance of helping those Dune Runners." Drixis tells me.

"Sorry."

* * *

The Terran captain starts to walk away from the female scientist, "oh, and Doctor Thrax?"

"Yes?"

"Whip the Marines up another batch of stimpaks for tomorrow. They'll need it when they go Dune Runner hunting."

"Whatever," she mumbles. The captain glares at her. "I mean, yes sir."

* * *

"Drixis, we can't let them kill the Dune Runners!" I yell.

"Deekah, believe me, I want to save them, but be realistic. We won't be able to get anywhere near the base with the forces that we have."

"It's not just the ones in the base I'm worried about. You heard those scum; they want to hunt down all the Dune Runners, every one on Zz'gash. Drixis, the Dune Runners are my ancestors, I can't let anyone harm them."

"That's a weird-looking cloud," we then heard the Terran captain say.

"Get the Observer out of there!" a Templar yells. It's too late. A Terran Science Vessel floats into view and a second later, the viewscreen goes dead.

"We must attack them now," Drixis sighs. "The Terrans now know that we are here, and if they reach our base with their forces, we're as good as dead."

"We must call Shakuras for reinforcements," another Dark Templar states.

"They will take too long to get here," sighs Atdaias. "Our priority is to keep our own forces alive. We should leave this planet while we still can."

"But we cannot just leave the Dune Runners to the mercy of those Terrans."

"What mercy?!"

Great, now they're fighting, I'll never convince them to save the Dune Runners in time now. Why is it that the Protoss only listen to me when it suits _their_ purposes? When there's a big decision to make, don't listen to the Zergling, what would she know? But when I do know something, they won't leave me alone! Deekah, give us more intelligence on the Zerg. Deekah, tell us about the Sandworms. Deekah…wait a second, that's it! The Sandworms! Why didn't I think of it before?! "Um, guys?"

"…Aiur may be under siege but that doesn't mean we should give up the principles of the Great Stewardship, the –"

"Wasn't that duty to protect lower lifeforms what helped the Zerg to get to Aiur in the first place?!"

"Guys?" I try again.

"The Dune Runners' are helpless against the Terrans –"

"We can't fight them, our forces would be slaughtered!"

"GUYS!!" I shout. That got them to shut up.

"What do you want, Zergling?" one of the Dark Templar hisses.

"Just listen up for a minute. I've got a plan."

* * *

"This," Drixis begins, "is a Thumper, the key to winning this battle." He showed the small, unimpressive-looking metal rod to the Zealots. We are gathered about half a klick away from the Terran base, behind a small outcropping of rock, readying ourselves for battle. I'm glad the Templar agreed to my idea. However, convincing the Zealots that the Thumpers are our key weapons will not be easy.

"What does it do?" Arvix asks. His long, slim arms are crossed in doubt.

Drixis presses a button on the side of the Thumper, and a tripod of anchor rods shoot out from the bottom. "When activated," Drixis explained, "it will emit a steady, ultrasonic pulse of sound into the ground." he gave Arvix another sample to pass around to the other Zealots.

"A pulse…I get it! This will attract the Sandworms, won't it?" Wenessal speculates.

"In theory, every Sandworm within two kilometres of the Thumper will come to…investigate it." Atdaias explains. "We will have to place the Thumper as close to the Terran base as possible. When the Sandworms emerge, there should be enough confusion created for the Dark Templar to sneak in and free the Dune Runners."

"We predict," Drixis continues, "that the majority of the escaping Terrans will try to run past this rock outcropping. You," he motions towards the Zealots, "will meet them here." A few of the Zealots activate their Psi Blades in anticipation.

"Finally, some action!" Arvix exclaims.

"High Templar Rangal and I will provide you with psionic support." Atdaias adds. Small bolts of psychic energy crackle between his four-fingered hands, empathising the point. Any Terran that came this way would get a nasty surprise from the High Templar's Psionic Storms. The four Scouts zoomed overhead then, and hovered above the Zealots, adding their support.

"Stay near this area until you are given the order to proceed." Drixis ordered. "A Probe is warping in two Shield Batteries and a few Photon Cannons here to assist you. When the Sandworms leave and the Dune Runners are safe, we should be able to attack the remainder of the Terran base with minimal risk. Any questions?"

"Dark Templar Drixis," one Zealot asks. "Who is going to place the Thumpers?"

Drixis motions to me then, so I step forward and take the Thumpers. "I will."


	4. Part 4: The Consequences

**Walk Without Rhythm: Part 4**

A StarCraft: Elizabeth Story

By Violetlight

Disclaimer:Once again, StarCraft belongs to Blizzard. This is the conclusion to "Walk Without Rhythm" so I would like to thank everyone for reading my story! By the way, I handed this in for an English project and got 92! StarCraft rules!

* * *

Part 4: Consequences

Before I was separated from my brood, I happened to receive a few…evolutions that aren't available to most Zerg. My brood developed these biological upgrades after an encounter with Fenris Brood, who's Cerebrate is Nargil, that genetic genius I told you about earlier, and also the Cerebrate who raised Queen Elizabeth. Being made a functional, although still sterile, female was one of those upgrades, but another is much more useful right now. All Zerg ground forces, except for the giant Ultralisks, have the ability to Burrow in the ground to avoid detection from our enemies. The Drones and Zerglings in Phoenix and Fenris Broods take that ability a step further. Not only can we Burrow under the ground, but we can also Tunnel through it, and that's what I'm doing now – Tunnelling towards the Terran base so I can drop off the Thumpers as close to it as possible, without getting shot at by those Siege Tanks I saw up on the top of the hill on the way there.

The Terrans weren't overly stupid for once. They did build some bunkers and things on the sand before, but I'm guessing they had some encounters of the big, nasty worm kind, so they've build the majority of their base up on a low, but rocky, hill. They did, however, build a good chunk of their buildings right near the edges of that hill, so the Sandworms should have no problems reaching them. My problem is that the Thumpers have to be put _on_ the ground, not under it, so that the vibrations will carry. That means I'll have to unburrow, and even though I have my Protoss armour on with its shields, as well as my own ultra-dense carapace and healing ability, I won't stand a chance with four or five Siege Tanks firing at me at once. It's time for me to live up to my ancestors' name and see just how fast I can run across the dunes. I pass the foundations of a ruined bunker. Good, I'm getting close. Just a few more clawfuls of sand and _clink_, I hit rock. By the Swarm, I hope this works…

I burst out of the sand and immediately, I feel bullets from a hilltop bunker bouncing against my shields. I quickly place the first Thumper and run! _Boom_! A Siege Tank bolt hits me, but it's okay, my shields are holding. I place the second thumper. _Boom!_ Another hit! My shields are gone; I've got to get out of here!

I race away from the base as fast as I can, not caring if I run without rhythm or not. With the Thumpers calling "come and get it!" I don't think the Sandworms would bother with a little thing like me. _Boom! Boom! _Ow! That hurt! My armour's cracked and I feel blood dripping down my side. It hurts like hell, but I have to keep running or it will hurt a lot more. As I run, though, I feel my carapace start to knit itself back together. Thank the Swarm for Zerg healing!

I'm far enough away now, the Siege Tanks can't reach me, so I shed my armour. It's too cracked to do me any good now anyway. Suddenly, I feel bullets pinging off my carapace, and a few going through. Hey! That part of me just healed you morons! I scream a Zergling battle cry at the Marines chasing me and run back towards the rock outcropping. Normally, I would take them out myself, but I'm already injured. I need backup.

"Heh heh, let's frag that critter!" I hear one the three idiots laugh, as I back up against the rocky wall. I snarl at them as they cock their guns…then, _slishck slishck_, the Terrans find that they don't have guns anymore, or arms, or heads.

"You were saying?" Wenessal eye-smirks, pulling her Psi Blade out of a Marine's neck.

"Thanks for the save," I smile at my Protoss friend.

"Deekah, you're hurt." Wenessal notices the blood still dripping from the Siege Tank shot, and from the new bullet wounds as well.

"Don't worry, I'll live," I assure her. My carapace is once again fixing itself. Wenessal, however, is not all right. She keeps looking at her Psi Blades, and at the three slain Marines. "What's wrong?" I ask.

"Nothing…it's just…I've never actually killed before."

"Wenessal, I know it's not easy, but we have to do our jobs. I'll talk to you about it after the battle, if you like."

"I…I would like that. Thank you Deekah."

"Hey, what are friends for?" I look back towards the Terran base. "I wonder what's taking those Sandworms so long?"

My question is answered. As the Zealots and I watch, we see not one, but three Sandworms burst from the sand at the bottom of the hill! One bunker is smashed just by the flying sand, and the screams of panicked Terrans fill the air as the creatures, looking for prey, smash buildings, toss around Siege Tanks and Goliaths like they were toys. One swallows a tank; another crushes a group of Marines, while the third obliterates SCV's. Strangely, the one thing the Terrans have that could have saved them from the worm's assault, the Battlecrusier, is just floating there, not even firing a shot. A few Dropships and Wraiths join it and it starts to ascend. I can't believe it; they're just leaving their own people here to die! These "UED" Terrans are truly disgusting.

As the Sandworms continue their search for prey, and their Battlecruiser takes off, Terrans start pouring out of their ruined base. The Marines and Firebats are running incredibly fast; they must be so full of stimpaks that they can't even think, just react. It's clear that they're reacting to their abandonment the only way they know how – they want to take us down with them. There is no reasoning with these Terrans; all we can do is give them an honourable death in battle.

The first wave of Marines start running past the rock outcropping, but stop when they see the bodies of their three dead comrades. Enraged, they start shooting their Gauss Rifles wildly, looking for anything to kill. They won't find anything but their own deaths here, as the Zealots quickly surround them and tear them apart. More Terrans keep coming, and soon, the battle is a whirlwind of flying bullets, flashing blades, and searing flames. I act on instinct, slicing, tearing, mercilessly attacking white and grey and white and red blurs. I feel rather than see my Zealot comrades, my own claws joining their electric-blue Psi Blades, slashing the enemy to bloody pieces. The Protoss continuously running back to nearby Shield Batteries and my own healing processes turn the tide against the Terrans, as we targeted and killed the few Medics early in the battle. It could have been a few minutes or a few hours, I can't say for sure, but all the Terrans meet their end.

The battle's not over yet, though! Laser bursts start shooting from nowhere, it must be some cloaked Wraiths, and our Photon Cannons were destroyed sometime during the battles with the ground forces. The Zealots scatter; even if they could see the Wraiths, they wouldn't be able to attack them. Suddenly, blue psychic lightening fills the air above us as Atdaias and Rangal's Psionic Storms destroy two of the Wraiths, but at least one remains, and it will take the High Templar some time to ready themselves again, time that we don't have! The Shield Batteries were exhausted in the last battle; the Zealots are helpless! I hear Arvix scream as the Wraith blasts a hole through his shoulder, his shields must be gone!

Quickly, I run to Arvix and stand over him, taking the Wraith's blasts myself. With my healing, I can stand the injuries, more so than a shieldless injured Protoss could. That's a pretty big hole; I may have no danger of bleeding to death, but he does. "Hang in there," I tell him, but another blast hits and I scream as burns a hole right through my foreleg.

"Deekah…don't do this for me," he sighes weakly.

"Shut up Arvix. Ahhh!" another bolt slams into me, cracking my carapace. I don't think I can take another hit…

All of a sudden, I hear a mental shout behind us, and the crackle of more psychic lightening. "LEAVE THEM ALONE!" There's an explosion and that Wraith is no more.

"Thank you, High Templar." I pant. It didn't take them as long as I thought it would for them to recharge.

"By Adun!" I hear a Protoss gasp.

"Huh?" I try to turn my head. There's no High Templar there, only a very surprised-looking Nageer.

"I did it. I actually did it, and I did not incinerate myself!" Nageer proclaims, still in disbelief.

"Thank you, and congratulations, High Templar Nageer." I manage to smile before dizziness overtakes me. I guess blood loss affects Zerglings more than I thought it did. I think I heard someone call out my name before everything went black.

* * *

"To the Terrans who call themselves the "UED". I am Drixis of the Dark Templar. Let it be known that through the principles of the Dae'Uhl, the Great Stewardship, the desert world of Zz'gash and all the life forms that inhabit it are under the protection of the Protoss Empire, and that all who threaten them will be destroyed. You are not welcome here. Return and you will suffer the wrath of the First Born!"

"Nice speech."

"I'm glad you think so."

* * *

It's been three days now since the Battle for Zz'gash, as the Protoss are calling it, but unfortunately, we've been ordered back to Shakuras. Apparently, a few rogue Zerg broods have followed some Protoss through a Warp Gate from Aiur, so all the Templar forces have been recalled. It's bad enough that the Zerg are still running rampant on Aiur; the Protoss really don't need them on Shakuras as well. I wish we could have spent more time on Zz'gash, though. The last three days have been amazing!

I slept through the rest of the day of the battle, and I felt a lot better when I woke up; my body had had the chance to heal completely. Arvix was doing a lot better too. Protoss medical science (like the rest of their technology) is very advanced, but apparently the doctors believe that if Arvix had taken one more shot, he likely would have ended up in a Dragoon. I really did save his life. By the third day, he was walking around again, and I heard that he should regain the use of his arm in a few weeks.

One of the first things I did notice when I woke up was that Dune Runners were all over the base. I asked Drixis why they were there, and he told me, we weren't the only ones doing some observations. The Dune Runners are very intelligent, with their own language (which sounds like a speeded-up version of Zergling speech), culture, and a pack-based society. Drixis actually compared them to what the Protoss were like before the Xel'Naga sped up their evolution, a early society of tribal hunters. The Zerg might have evolved Dune Runners physically when the first Zerglings were created, but we were de-evolved mentally, made vastly stupider so that we were easier to control. This gives me another reason to value my sentience; it actually makes me closer to my ancestors, not further away.

The Dune Runners had been watching us since we arrived, hiding in the sand dunes near our base. It's strange, isn't it, how they were right under our noses (or, in the Protoss' case, the area of their face where their nose would be, if they had one) the whole time and we, with all our fancy Observers and stuff, didn't even know it. The Dune Runners quickly determined that we meant them no harm, and were flattered when they found out that we had travelled across space, or the "Black Vastness", as they put it, just to study them. When the UED Terrans arrived, the Dune Runners thought that more friendly aliens had come to say hello. They were wrong.

Drixis later told me of how during the battle, the Dark Templar had rushed to save the trapped Dune Runners while the Terran base was still under attack from the Sandworms. I can imagine the Dune Runners' reactions when the locks on the cages appeared to slice off by themselves, before the Dark Templar had decloaked, showing the Dune Runners that they were on their side. The Dark Templar had just finished freeing the last of them when the sandworms, satisfied with however many Terrans they had eaten, retreated back to the desert. As soon as they left, fifty or so Dune Runners had appeared from apparently nowhere, and destroyed what was left of the Terran base. They made it quite clear that they didn't want the any Terrans on their planet either.

We're just spending a few last hours with the Dune Runners before we have to return to Shakuras. Right now, one of the little ones has taken quite an interest in my tail, so I'm letting her play with it, swishing it back and forth as she tries to pounce on it. The Dune Runners know that I'm not really one of them, but most of the ones here have come to talk to me at one point or another. When they ask me which part of the Black Vastness I'm from, told them Shakuras, the same place as the Protoss. I think they know that this isn't true, but they don't seem to really mind, they know that I'm a friend, and that's all that really matters to them. The little one suddenly makes an excited little squeak, and runs off to play with her brothers, who, as I can see, are trying to drag one of the Probes behind them.

"Can we keep it?" I hear them ask their mother.

"What did I tell you before?" she sighs. "The Protoss are our friends, they're not pets."

"Not even the robots?"

"No."

"But motherrrrrrr!" they whine. Children seem to get in a lot of trouble, but still, the Dune Runners are lucky to have them.

"Hey Deekah."

"Oh, hi Arvix. How are you feeling?" Arvix's arm is in a sling, but besides that, he seems all right.

"By Adun, will you stop worrying about me already? You're almost as bad as Wenessal, who, by the way, finally agreed to go out with me!"

"Really? Okay, how many months are you going to take rock line duty for her now?"

"None. She actually wants to go out with me, believe it or not."

"I'm choosing 'not'," I tease him. "By the way, how long until you have to stop the 'poor me' act?"

"Very funny Deekah. I'll be as good as new in about 10 days, which is a lot better than being stuck in a Dragoon for the rest of my life. Thanks again, Dee."

"Just doing my job, don't get all mushy on me now."

"I wouldn't torture you like that," Arvix eye-smiles. "By the way, I was talking to Drixis earlier and I managed to swipe a little something when he wasn't looking."

"Drixis' comm. computer! Arvix, I didn't expect you to get this for me."

"Why not? You were right about the Sandworms."

"Well, yeah…but still. You didn't have to."

"Deekah?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up and take the damn computer."

"Thanks Arvix."

"Don't mention it. I mean, really, don't mention it. By the way, I said I would get you the computer, I didn't say anything about taking it back."

"What?! Arvix!"

"Sorry Deekah, I've got to go. I think I hear Wenessal calling me…"

"Hey, get back here you…" ah forget it. I look at the computer lying between my front claws. Can it…? "Computer," I order. "Can you show me the records of any Terran Ghost agents that have been encountered by the Protoss?"

"Affirmative," the little machine beaps. Pictures and Protoss writing start to fly across its screen.

"Computer, narrow your search to Terran Ghosts in the Liberty's Flame militia." I command it. Five Ghosts' records show up, although there are a lot more in Elizabeth's Terran ally's army. I just hope he's in here. Let's see, Ghost agent 76-0938, 94-0001, 88-, wait, that's it! I pull up the record, and in an instant, those soft brown eyes I remember so well are starring back at me. "Eighty-Eight…"

Eighty-Eight, the one Terran I could ever really bring myself to trust. He was my mate…my love, and it was because I defended him that I had to leave my brood. Elizabeth was very kind to all of us, but the one most important rule that she and General Drais made regarding the Zerg/Terran alliance was that we could not kill each other. No Zerg could spill an allied Terran's blood, and no Terran could harm us. Anyone who violated this rule would be handed over to the other side to be…dealt with. Everyone thought this was a good rule, and I guess it was. The trouble was, after Eighty-Eight and I had been seeing each other for about a month, one of the Terran Medics got it into her stupid little head that she liked Eighty-Eight, and she just wouldn't stop bothering him, no matter how many times he told her to get lost. Then, disaster struck when she caught Eighty-Eight and I together one night on the Creep, when we were coming out of a Burrow, him with most of his clothing off. We had been trying to keep our relationship a secret; after all, we were a Zerg and a Terran, but Medics are notorious gossips, and she threatened to tell the entire base about us, if Eighty-Eight didn't agree to sleep with her once. When she started going on and on about how disgusting, how wrong she thought it was for us to be together, I just couldn't take it anymore. I snapped. I jumped on that Medic and stabbed her twice in the chest, puncturing her lungs, and I watched as she drowned in her own blood.

I had to run. I had killed a Terran, a Medic at that, and the other Terrans wanted my blood. If I hadn't been picked up by the Protoss, I would still be on that dump of a planet, hunting the local wildlife, living like an animal just to survive. My life would have no meaning.

I look at the picture on the screen and remember the good times, how Eighty-Eight used to scratch me behind my ears or under my head shield. He always knew where I liked it best. I remember how he used to tell me he loved me, despite my race; how much I loved him. But he is in my past now. There's no going back. Even if I did see my old brood again, I would never be able to rejoin the Zerg. When I joined the Templar, the Council made me get my head shield cut off, the telepathic receptors in it joining me to the Zerg severed forever. It was the only way they could be assured of my loyalty to them. A metal shield replaces it now, so I won't loose my balance when fighting, but it's just a hollow shell. To the Zerg, I no longer exist.

Eighty-Eight, if I ever did see you again, would you leave behind the Terrans, everything you knew, so we could be together again? I don't know if you could, and I can't ask you to make that sort of sacrifice, I love you too much.

As I look at this picture, I now realise that as much as I miss Eighty-Eight and my brood, they are a part of my past now, and while I will always remember my past, I shouldn't dwell on it. The Protoss took me in, accepted me, and gave me a future. I have made friends here, Arvix, Wenessel, even Drixis, and have found a new purpose for my life. They are my brood now, and I will fight to the end for them! You never know, maybe one day, all Zerg can be rejoined with our sibling race, the Protoss, again. Maybe I'm the beginning of that future.

I shut down the comm. Computer. I should go give this back to Drixis now. Speaking of Drixis…ah hell, he is kind of cute, for a Protoss, and everyone could use a good laugh before we go. If you'll excuse me, I have a Dark Templar to lick!

_The End, for now._


End file.
